


Tatooine

by RoninReverie



Series: Old Kanera Fanfiction [4]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Anchorhead, F/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Slavery, Tatooine, casino - Freeform, trade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoninReverie/pseuds/RoninReverie
Summary: Tatooine Arc: 1/5A lead to finding Hera's lost family takes the Ghost crew to the planet of Tatooine where Hera and Kanan will find far more than a few measly rumors.





	Tatooine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: [Link!](http://roninreverie.tumblr.com/post/137241100269/tatooine)
> 
>  **IMPORTANT!** This series was written before the second half of season 2 aired on television, so all content is based on my headcanons after season 1 and the "A New Dawn" novel. 
> 
> This chapter involves Chopper, who in this case has NOT been with Hera since she was still living on Ryloth. 
> 
> As always, there are obscure Star Wars references, if any hardcore fans want to find them in this chapter!

“How was I supposed to know that he was her boyfriend!?”

“Kanan!” Hera ran quickly, but she still had plenty of breath remaining to scold him. “What part of  _‘low profile’_ , did you not get in the briefing?”

He flung his hands through the air. “She said she knew Jakko!” 

“ _And—_ you believed her?” Hera pointed to a nearby flag that hung low from the shop keep’s store, and her voice shifted from aggravation to instruction… “There! Aim for that mast!”

“I see it!” He replied, pulling his blaster as Hera turned swiftly around the corner. It was a good thing the Tatooine streets were made of sand and dried dirt, or this probably wouldn’t have worked out like they’d hoped.

Kanan turned the corner and shot back at the pole sticking out of the wall. As he did, the huge mast holding a long red Imperial flag fell and landed atop their three Rodian pursuers, trapping them like beasts in a net.

“Got em!” Kanan smiled, still running as the two darted down alleys to make their escape complete.

Hera was not impressed, “Well, you wouldn’t have had to ‘ _get them_ ’—” she said sourly, “—If you had just waited on orders and followed the plan!”

“Hey, don’t go trying to blame all of this on me!” Kanan argued. “It’s not my fault that you had a bad lead!”

Hera scoffed, “Let’s just get back to the ship! We can talk about this later!”

Kanan’s eyes squinted, his voice snippy. “Fine…” he said.

“Fine!” Hera yelled back.

“Fine!” Kanan wanted the last word in. To his pleasure, Hera only groaned and did not talk to him again until they reached the  _Ghost._

* * *

 

Back on the ship _,_ Kanan sat at the round dining table as Hera paced back and forth, mumbling to herself as her lekku shook with every step or turn of her head. Kanan let out a long sigh, and Hera slammed her hands on top of the table.

“Let’s go over where we went wrong, shall we?” She counted the offenses of on her fingers. “You disobeyed my orders to lay low, you managed to flirt your way into a street fight, you ended up getting us chased half way through Anchorhead!” She gave him a vengeful look that wrinkled her nose, “Did I leave anything out?”

 _She was cute when she got mad,_  Kanan thought… but he didn’t let on.

“Oh, I know you’re going to tell me!” he grumbled.

Her face softened and she held out her pinky, “And I had bad intel…” she sighed, “You were right Kanan.”

“Was I now?” He smirked, “Can I get that in writing?”

“Don’t get a bigger head than you already have! The way I see it, you  _still_  managed to get us caught. It will be harder to get anyone in this town to talk to us now.”

“Does saying  _sorry_  count for something?” Kanan winked.

Hera raised a brow at him. “It’s a start, I suppose?”

“Well in that case, I might as well tell you the lead I got off of the Rodian…”

“You got a lead on Jakko?” She sounded unconvinced, “ _From her? Really…_ ”

Kanan ignored her skepticism.

“He’s a Bith,” he informed. “—Plays over in Mos Entha with some band, but I hear he’s covering for a— _ahem_ —lost slitherhorn player at Jabba the Hutt’s place.”

“For how long?”

“They said he was playing nearby about two weeks ago—before his boss traded him over to Jabba’s goons. For all they know he’s still at the palace?” Kanan shook his head. “That’s all they knew.”

The rumor was nearly identical no matter who they talked to. The Bith was still performing for Jabba, but no one had seen or heard from Jakko aside from the stories spreading. How long did anyone work for Jabba the Hutt? Odds are that the Bith would probably be there until he died. Kanan didn’t want to be the one to tell Hera that though. He could tell that she was already considering the outcomes in her own mind.

She sighed, “So, we’re back where we started…”

Kanan stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry Hera, we’ll find out what we can about your sister, somehow…”

She removed his hand solemnly.

“That’s what worries me.”

Kanan watched as she left the ship, but he decided it was best to let her go. Where he was going, it was probably best if Hera  _didn’t know_. He grabbed his cloak and headed out the ship as well.

* * *

 

Hera wandered the streets of Anchorhead, her hood masking as much of her face as it could. She made her way downtown, studying the people and the way they did business with one another. A fight here, a theft there. She noticed the people trading, cheating, and flirting with one another in this sandy hovel. 

It reminded her of how her life could have changed if she hadn’t escaped her slavers all those years ago.

After hearing about the massive slave trade that was about to go down on Tatooine, Hera and Kanan went straight to the source. Of course, with all the shady characters on this pit of a planet, gaining intel was proving to be— _difficult._

The closest thing that they’d gotten to a lead was a rumor that a male Bith Slitherhorn player named Jakko was talking about a Twi’lek slave that had been kind to him during his time at Jabba’s Palace. According to the source, Jakko looked pretty beat up, and he didn’t speak much sense the last time he was seen in public. No one knew where to find him, or whether he was back at the palace or if he’d escaped a thousand miles away. No one really knew much of anything useful.

Hera saw other Twi’leks as she walked, all of them just as shady and low as the locals who walked the streets. It was just the way people acted here, it was just the way things were. Hera wondered if ten years on this miserable planet was enough time to turn her sister into one of them— _or if she was even still alive?_  She liked to believe that the kind Twi’lek from the rumors of Jakko could have been her. She could only hope.

“Hey!” a voice stopped her trail of thought. “Hey lady!”

She stopped and turned to the Er’Kit salesman who beckoned her to his set-up. She knew better than to do business with anyone on this strip, but talking with him seemed to be a better option than wandering alone with her thoughts. She approached him cautiously, and his smile grew wider.

“Ah!” He marveled at her. “I knew you were a woman of fine tastes my dear, come, come!”

The Toydarian across the street laughed and yelled, “Ah, he does not know what he sells! Pay him no mind!”

“Quiet you!” the Er’Kit shouted. He diverted his attention towards Hera. “Don’t listen to him,” he said, “He and I are not on the best terms at the moment.”

Hera looked around the useless scrap piles he had lying around. 

“And why is that?” She wondered.

“Sabaac last night was in my favor!” He grinned. “We play every week over at the local cantina. But that is not why you are here. You are curious,  _yes?_ ”

“You could say that,” she lied.

“A pilot, are you not?”

Hera stiffened. She removed her hood, allowing her goggles and headgear to become visible.  _How had he seen it?_

“I have just the thing for a pretty pilot like you…” he pointed inside, “Wait here.”

Hera did so as people passed by, looking at her in ways that made her skin crawl. 

Clattering and clanking erupted from inside, as the Er’Kit cursed and shuffled around. She placed a hand on her hip and called in the shop after the strange man.

“Everything okay in there?”

“There he is!” he laughed and grunted, dragging an old hunk of metal out of the doorway. The salesman set it upright on the ground and patted the top, letting the dust and rust rise into the air with every touch.

He coughed. “This is the best astromech droid this side of the star system.”

Hera looked to the dusty old droid with skepticism.  It was an old C1-10P droid. Busted by the looks of it.

“This is a very old model—” She gave him a look and added, “This particular droid was retired years ago—before I was even born. What good is it to me?”

“It may not look like much, but this old droid has helped me through many adventures—that is—until some kid took off with my ship and stranded us here. Old mech ran out of power about five or six years ago.”

Hera stiffened again.

“That’s awful…” She treaded carefully. “How long have you been trapped here?”

“Oh—” he scratched his neck, “About eight or nine years—who can tell with this planet’s rotation? I didn’t get a good look at them, but the thief took off with my old freighter—probably saved me more money just by taking it. That old thing was a heap of junk even then.”

She looked to him and then to the droid.

“Bit of a fixer upper, isn’t it?”

“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure?” He shrugged. “Better than just sitting him around here to rust. I’ll sell you the whole mech for oh say—900 credits.”

Hera laughed, “For the maintenance this thing needs?” She mulled it over, feeling guilty that she may be the cause of his misfortunes in the first place. “I’ll give you five.”

“Seven, and not a credit less!” He rubbed his hands together. “It’s  _merely a portion_  of what I paid for him. I think that’s pretty fair.”

Hera rolled her eyes.  _I cannot believe I’m doing this…_

“Deal.”

She handed him the credits and she placed a hand on the heavy metal droid.

“Enjoy him, my dear…” the salesman gave her a particularly nasty grin.

“ _Oi!_ ” The Toydarian hollered, “You just got swindled good, yeah!? That thing is a bucket of bolts! It is not worth the scrap of its metal.”

Hera ignored him, and struggled to move the dead droid away from the store. “Don’t suppose you’ll lend me a lifter for this thing?” she grunted.

“Lend?” he smiled, “My apologies, but I do not have any movers for sale. You will want to move him quickly though. The Jawas are a particularly grabby race when it comes to droids.”

“I have one for sale with me,” the Toydarian chortled. “500 credits to move the droid, what do you say,  _eh?_ ”

Hera slid into the sand and huffed once. With a growl, she looked up to him and pointed. “200, or I’ll take my chances with the Jawas!”

Guilt or not, she was not going to be double-cheated by these lowlife merchants. Hopefully Kanan wouldn’t get too mad when she tells him how much money she’d spent on this useless astromech droid.  _Still,_  she felt this natural obligation to it now that it was hers. Maybe fixing it up was just the kind of distraction she’s been looking for.

* * *

 

Kanan hoped that Hera would not get too hysterical when she learns how much money he’s gambled away at the Lucky Star Casino. 

To recap his events that would lead him to a particularly long conversation with his captain… Kanan had stolen a speeder bike, traveled all the way to Mos Entha, and infiltrated the popular casino here in order to speak with the leader of the Bith band that had traded Jakko to the Hutts. If anything, he could find the bounty hunter and maybe figure out a way to get him back from Jabba.

Unfortunately, the Bith band was not there, so he had to play and gamble his way into trust with the owner of the casino.  _Luckily for Kanan…_ the owner was a woman. So… _he turned on the charm._

“Come on baby,” Kanan wooed. “You must know more than that…”

The Whiphid woman blushed as Kanan’s hand traced her exceedingly long chin, tapping a finger against one of her tusks.

“I’m afraid I know nothing,” she teased coyly. “The bands who play here are all selected at random. If this Bith group was here, I do not know where they could be now.” She frowned, “As for those retched Hutts, they can all fall into the Sarlaac Pit! I do not do business with their kind.”

Kanan spun her around and left her in a seat while he walked off. 

When she realized he had cut her loose, the Whiphid woman scoffed and spat on the floor.   _“Men!”_  She harrumphed and went back to what she was doing.

Now Kanan was really losing his leads. He was about to give up and go home when suddenly, a blonde man in the corner drew his attention.

“Hey buddy!” the man beckoned. He appeared to be a regular here, judging by his demeanor and the two Twi’lek dancers that clung to his sides.

Kanan glared at him.

“I hear that you were looking to hire a Bith band. Great music!” He clapped. “You’re in luck—I might just know a thing or two about the particular group you are searching for.”

Reluctantly, Kanan sat on the crescent love-seat across from him, and slipped him a small credit chip before he leaned back for the information to follow.

“There was a band that played here a few weeks ago—call themselves the Dewback Ramblers—they’re a new group, people dropping in and out of the band every time they play. Their leader—now what was his name again?”

The man’s voice fished for more credits. Kanan breathed loudly and set another one on the table, a glare in his eyes that warned the blonde informer not to press his luck.

He took the credit and snapped, “Blerx Tango! Now I remember. You look for Tango, you find your band.”

“And where can I find him?” Kanan asked.

“That, I’m not even sure I can say?” The man shrugged and placed his arms around the Twi’lek women. “He keeps pretty quiet—but if I was you, I would try looking over at the Mos Entha Hotel. All the strangers come and go through there. If you’re lucky, he might still be there?”

Kanan stood and gave the man a nod. “Thanks.”

“Anytime!” he laughed drunkenly, immediately rising to spend the credits he earned on another gamble somewhere in the Lucky Star.

Kanan rolled his eyes and made his way to the street in order to find this hotel. He hoped that in his years of falling towards cheap thrills and drinks, he hadn’t become so deplorable. The old Kanan would have really enjoyed the Lucky Star,  _but now,_ all he could think of was how two-faced it all appeared. A distraction,  _that was all it was._  A distraction from life full of bright lights, loud sounds, and an easy means to waste money.  _Had it always been like that?_  He could have sworn that casinos used to be way more fun.

Kanan parked the stolen speeder nearby the Mos Entha Hotel which was busy with traffic and a small fight that had broken out near the door. He would use the distraction to his advantage.

“I hope I still remember how to do this,” he murmured. “For Hera…”

He made his way to the front of the lobby to the service desk and placed an elbow on the top. The manager, a white haired man full of wrinkles, placed whatever he was doing to the side, and looked over the counter at his guest with a look of pure disdain.

“Can I help you?” He wrinkled his nose a little.

“You can,” Kanan replied with one of his best smiles. “I’m looking for someone. Maybe you can help me find them?”

The manager gazed down at Kanan and sneered, “We maintain a code of customer confidentiality here, sir. If you are looking for a fight, might I suggest the Lucky Star down the road? Or the front yard perhaps?”

“Come on, he’s an old friend!” Kanan lied. “And he said he was going to interview me for his band, the Dewback Ramblers! You gotta let me in, this could be my big break!”

“Our policy—” the man said firmly, “—is final! You can take your smell of sin and booze back to the casino where it belongs. And, unless you come back looking to buy a room— _scram!”_

Kanan rolled his eyes and sighed.  _Hard way it is. Here goes nothing._

He looked around the empty lobby. Everyone was so preoccupied by the fight outside that no one was paying him any mind. Just what Kanan had hoped for. 

He waved a hand in front of the man’s blank brown stare.

“You will tell me where I can find find Blerx Tango,” Kanan said sternly.

“I will tell you where you can find Blerx Tango—” The manager repeated slowly.

“Well, where is he?” Kanan asked.

The man at the service desk looked dazed into the distance, but held up an informational chart and continued speaking in his hypnotic tone. “He is currently a resident in room 24B. Will that be all you require, sir?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he smirked.  _“Still got it!”_

Kanan wandered off as the man blinked back to reality. By the time the front desk manager had regained his composure, the mysterious guest in his lobby with all the questions had vanished. In fact, even the memory of him had seemed to vanish. He couldn’t recall what he was standing at the desk for in the first place.

“What was I just doing?” He blinked.

Meanwhile, Kanan snuck through the hallways and appeared at his destination.

_Knock-knock-knock!”_

“Blerx Tango?” Kanan called. “Open up.”

He listened. Kanan could hear the footsteps roaming around frantically inside, and with a roll of his eyes, he spoke under his breath… “Oh, I don’t have time for this…” and with a swift kick, he cracked the switch on the wall which opened the door with a dramatic  _Whoosh_!

The Bith let out a screech and attempted to throw his luggage at Kanan’s head, but the rusty Jedi ducked and let the case smack the wall behind him.

“Hey, take it easy buddy!” Kanan yelled, “I just need to know a little information about a mutual friend we share.”

The Bith growled, but Kanan pressed on.

“Name’s Jakko, you remember him?”

“Jakko?” the Bith leader repeated, his defensive rage diminishing. Blerx shook his head and continued… “Jakko was always getting into trouble. He is too trusting of others.”

“Yeah, and I hear you traded him out to the Hutts?” Kanan frowned, “I need to know who the bounty hunter you traded with was.”

“Not traded! Taken!” The Bith was offended by the accusation. “A bounty hunter collected him after our performance. The last slitherhorn player in Jabba’s personal band—I hear he died in an attack on his palace. Jabba wanted a replacement, so Jakko was tricked by the hunter and taken captive to play at the Hutt Palace!”

“Did you see it?”

“I did, but by the time I realized what had happened,” Blerx sighed, “There was nothing I could do.

“Do you remember what this bounty hunter looked like?” Kanan persisted.

“Green—” Tango recalled. “And—in armor from Mandalore. Many here know of him. He is very dangerous! Works directly for Jabba the Hutt.”

“What’s his name?” Kanan glared.

The Bith’s fingers twitched, and he looked around the room as if it was listening.

“Spit it out…” Kanan huffed impatiently.

“He is called Boba Fett.”

Kanan wasn’t sure if he recognized that name or not, but something about him didn’t feel right. It didn’t matter. He had to find out any little scrap of evidence about Hera’s sister that he could. 

They came to this planet to halt the huge slave trade that was going down any day now. Hera wanted only to stop the trade and look for her sister, but Kanan had convinced her to start looking before the ship arrived. She agreed so long as they didn’t attack the Hutt’s palace directly because  _that would have just been suicidal and stupid._

Kanan shook his thoughts away and returned his attention to Blerx Tango. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a hard stare. 

 _For Hera._ He thought.

“Tell me where I can find this—Boba Fett.”

* * *

 

Hera had just finished cleaning the last of the grime off of the old astromech droid. She managed to re-calibrate his treads, and replace a few spare wires using spares from the  _Ghost_. It wasn’t much, but at least she had it looking like a decent floor decoration, if nothing else.

“You’ve had it pretty rough, haven’t you little guy?

While she made her repairs, Hera had noticed that the old C1 droid had been picked apart and put back together many times. Hardly anything from his factory body remained intact, and he barely had a model number left to read anymore.  

“You’re just a choppy heap of scrap, aren’t you?” she continued to speak at it as she tinkered with its mainframe. 

She was right, a bit of distraction had done her good. This sort of work always helped her clear her thoughts and focus.

Hera and Kanan had searched all day for her sister with only one dead lead, but tomorrow would be better. She had faith,  _and for now_  that was all that she needed.

 _Worst case scenario_ , they would just have to break up the slave ship when the trade went down. Gathering information on that front was easy enough. It would be in a few days—a massive transport ship was coming—it was a huge profit for the Hutts—all that nonsense. Hera didn’t want to think of the greed of it all for too long—hence fixing up the old droid to keep her mind clear.

“Almost—” she frowned, pinching the last of two wires together with her pliers before a dial-up beep made her sit back in satisfaction. “And—I got it!”

The droid powered on, and its orange, cylinder head spun around, surveying the ship.

“Hey there little guy,” Hera greeted warmly. “Welcome back to the world of the living…”

The droid beeped rapidly, its arms chopping through the air as if it was expecting a fight. The sudden movements started Hera for a moment until the ancient astromech’s light faded out and it fell back to sleep.

Hera huffed.

“What was that?” She looked to the charging cord against the wall, “I hope wherever Kanan went, he’s having more luck doing whatever he’s doing, than I am.”

She set down her tools with a bad feeling growing inside.

“Wait…where  _did_  Kanan run off to?”

* * *

 

“Hera is going to kill me…” Kanan said to himself.  

The one place that she told him not to go—the one place on all of Tatooine that she forbid them from actually setting foot in. Yet here he was. Jabba’s world-renown palace.  _More like a fortress._  

It was a steel and sandrock complex—round, wide, and reinforced with ditanium alloy.  _Military grade by the looks of it._ Kanan might as well be trying to break into a sealed can.  

The perimeter was bigger than any of the other structures on Tatooine, and for every window there was a hundred foot plummet into the ground. The only visible entrance appeared to be a big durasteel door, with an electronic eye to interrogate any and all visitors.

In other words, it was basically a death trap with little in means of an entrance or an escape route. Kanan had a pistol blaster, some charm, and his fists. They had an army of thieves and lowlifes, not to mention a well-armed bounty hunter with a bad reputation.

It was then that Kanan saw his target—the man in green Mandalorian armor.  _This Boba Fett guy didn’t look so tough._

He watched as the bounty hunter paced the corridor of the building, and then turned to go inside. Kanan wondered if  _maybe there was a way to attract this Fett’s attention without actually breaking Hera’s orders?_  He thought quickly and picked up a decent sized rock, throwing it over the ledge as hard as he could without a second thought.

_THUD!_

It clanked against the Mandalorian’s helmet and the bounty hunter was none too pleased to have been struck.

“Take the bait…” Kanan urged. “Come on…”

Fett bent over and weighed the rock in his hand. Kanan almost thought that he was about to shrug it off, but the ex-Jedi could not have been more wrong. With a sharp grasp and a jolt of his head, Kanan saw this metal bounty hunter completely crush the rock beneath his fist and look directly over to his hiding spot up the hill. Though miles away, Kanan could feel the rage in his stare, and he knew for a fact that Fett knew exactly where the rock had come from and who had thrown it.

“Maybe this guy isn’t so bad after all?” Kanan had just started to rethink the skill level of this bucket-head when the noise caught him off guard.

Apparently he had a jetpack that Kanan hadn’t noticed before.

“So that’s a thing…” Kanan got up and decided to make himself scarce, especially as a red blast of hot laser tore apart the rock near his face where he hid.

_Time to run._

Kanan fired, once, twice, and then nothing. It wasn’t doing much good against this bounty hunter, Boba Fett. The shots did nothing to pierce that armor—and with every shot, the only thing that happened was the flying bounty hunter’s anger rose.

“Hey!” Kanan eased, “No hard feelings, I was just testing your attentiveness.” The bounty hunter narrowly missed Kanan’s face with another blast and he added. “You passed! I’ll be sure to tell Jabba to give you a raise!”

Only silence returned his banter.  _That…_  and the black stare beneath that “T” shaped visor.

“Not much of a talker are you?”

Kanan shot again, but Boba Fett dodged it and extended his arm to reveal a whipcord that launched from his armor and wrapped around Kanan’s legs.

“You’re just full of surprises?” He smiled just before Boba Fett took off with his Jet Pack and swift yank of his arm, knocking Kanan to the ground, his head striking against a rock, knocking him completely unconscious.

All according to plan _—in a way?_

The last thoughts in his mind, a common phrase for him to think before blacking out:  _‘Oh yeah, Hera is definitely going to kill me.’_

* * *

 

“I’m going to kill him!” Hera shouted. She looked outside to the dark night sky and chunked her wrench onto the floor of the  _Ghost._ He should have been back hours ago, so where was he?

Hera had spent that last few hours of her evening trying to fix the old orange droid to no avail. Even when she forced the small robot to come on, it only shut right back off. It was either deliberately shutting down, or completely dysfunctional. Either way, she had already fixed it back to optimum operating levels, so Hera was beginning to think that she’d been a little _too generous_  with that Er’Kit salesman back in town. Something wasn’t right about this…

“Hey! Twi’lek!” A voice shouted. “Come out here!”

It was the salesman himself.

“Speak of the devil?” Hera rolled her eyes. She charged her blaster and decided to exit the ship anyway. By the sounds of his bellowing, the Er’Kit was looking for trouble, and in the mood Hera was in, she felt happy to oblige.

When the platform dropped, she noticed the small huddle of backup that he had brought—of course it was the band of Rodians that Kanan had aggravated earlier today.

“What can I do for you boys?” Hera’s voice was secretly lined with aggravation.

The Er’Kit who had sold Hera the droid held up a blaster and started barking demands.

“Hands up!” He ordered, “Go on!”

Hera obeyed, but her voice never faltered. “Am I allowed to know what’s going on here?”

One of the Rodians spoke Huttese before the shady salesman spoke up.

“You know what you did!” He waved his gun at her. “I could spot you landing from a mile away—this is my ship! Look what you’ve done to it—” He groaned, “It’s horrible!”

Hera placed her hands on her hips.

“If you knew this whole time, then why take the time to sell me that droid?”

He got a devilish grin to his face.

“Oh… I knew you would fix him up for me—I could see the look in your eyes—you are a salvager!”

Hera glared.

“It’s why you stole my ship all those years ago—and it’s why you’ve decorated it up with all of this useless—” He stopped, “Are those blaster shots? What have you been doing? You know what, I don’t care—just come out so we can take back my ship.”

“You mean, my ship!” Hera corrected.

“Why you presumptuous little—”

“Big talk,” she grinned. Leaning against the entrance, she gave him a hard stare and continued, “Look, I will formally apologize for stealing this shuttle. I was only a child, trying to run from a life of slavery—you can understand that, can’t you?”

“I don’t care about your pitiful childhood or your prattle!” He said, “Either way, you admit it—you stole my ship.”

She gave him a smirk and started walking towards him.

“See this?” She beat her hand against the side of the ship where a rebel insignia was painted on. “This symbol. It’s bigger than you—bigger than your backup, and bigger than me. It means that for the last ten years and for the next ten to come, this ship is going to be paving way for peace in the galaxy. It deserves  _more_  than to gain dust like that old C-1 droid.”

The group raised their blasters.  

Hera stared, there was a chill in her voice, a chill that normally only Kanan got when he wanted to fight. “Now you could try to shoot me and steal the ship,” she said. “Or I can compensate you for the mistakes of a little girl from Ryloth—and we can let bygones be bygones. Which do you prefer?”

The Rodians started to chatter, but the Er’Kit did not seem too fazed.

“That is certainly tempting,” he laughed darkly, “But I have a better idea.”

_ZZZAP!_

Hera yelled and fell to the ground unconscious. The C1-10P droid, chirping loudly from behind as it retracted its electroshock prod back into its core.

“Very good, C1-10P. Just as planned.” 

The salesman snapped at the Rodians to retrieve Hera and he examined her face with a greedy gleam in his eyes. He snickered. “Now we get the credits, my ship, and—Jabba will pay us handsomely for the return of his long lost little slave.”

The droid beeped, but looked to the unconscious pilot woman and stopped. Everything in its hardware screamed out the fact that she was the enemy, but the small bot could feel it—the new circuitry, the replacement parts. He had been rusting in the corner for years, but he had heard her voice, felt her touch. It was all part of the plan,  _sure,_  but the little droid could not help but remember the fact that she had finally fixed him back to life.

“Let’s go,” the Er’Kit said.

To which all the droid could do, was reply with a sad little… _Boop_.

* * *

 

 _“Wonkee doth uba wata?”_  The massive Hutt ruler said. 

There was a female-programmed protocol droid beside him that carefully translated his words.

“The great Jabba wishes to know why you are here,” she said.

“I’ve come to return something,” the Er’kit motioned for the Rodians to drag Hera into the chamber. Jabba’s spectators started to whisper upon seeing her.

 _“Haku doth da?”_  Jabba seemed unimpressed.

The protocol droid translated… “Jabba would like to know ‘what’ exactly you are offering?”

“This is a Twi’lek slave,” he held her unconscious face up in his hand. “She admitted to fleeing before delivery to your palace. She is yours.”

“ _Eeth uen cay bu baua!_ ” He flicked his stubby arm over to the direction of the prison cells. “ _Gee uen van che wa bacogna bai kantkhia uen paupe matmaph! Hee ua koee bahia mi!_ ” 

“He says to put her with the other prisoner,” the droid said. “She is to spend a week incarcerated for her crimes before attending to her duties.”

The Er’Kit flinched as two Gamorrean guards took Hera away.

The C1 droid was shaking profusely, its bolts rattling. It _blooped_  a warning to its master, begging him to stop while he was ahead. It tugged at his leg a few times, until a stare from Jabba made it screech.

“Shut up you worthless droid!” The salesman yelled with a kick.

The droid didn’t go far, but rolled off angrily, grunting and complaining all the while.

“Stupid piece of scrap!” he grumbled, returning his attention back to the Hutt with a bow. “My apologies. I’ll personally dismantle that pile of junk later, Great Jabba.”

“ _Mee droida doth tee ree yai_ ,” Jabba sounded amused, prompting laughter from all of the other species in the great chamber. “ _Ateema, doth bolla!_ ” He shooed them away.

“You may leave,” the droid translated more politely.

“Great Jabba—” the salesman sweated a little. “Certainly, it is not too presumptuous of me to expect compensation for this slave?” He said, “Especially considering her capture and transport to your doorstep?”

“ _Uba banag wa uyat?_ ” Jabba rose a little, his voice thunderous and enraged. The spectators in his room started to whisper frantically at one another as others turned the corner to avoid the room entirely. Jabba’s hands came down as with them, so did the floor… The Er’kit and the three Rodians fell into the pit with a loud roar erupting after. Jabba laughed and spoke down towards the pit. “ _Ran dotkot mee uyat!_ ”

“Oh dear…” the protocal droid sighed. 

The astromech watched in equal horror from behind a small table as screams and roars erupted from below.

Jabba turned towards Boba Fett and pointed.

“ _Mee pomka nem andoba hou, Boba Fett. Goo lwaa coe bo dana-ou._ ”

_(Your catch lives another day, Boba Fett. He should count his blessings.)_

The bounty hunter sounded amused, but disappointed. “I suppose so,” he replied back. “Whoever he is…” Fett added, “I will enjoy watching the Rancor devour him.”

To which all Jabba replied back with was a laugh.

* * *

 

Hera grumbled back to consciousness, her back stiff and arms numb for some reason as she noticed a familiar blur coming into view in front of her.

“Kanan…” she mumbled, her eyes springing open suddenly when she saw him. “KANAN!”

He was hanging from a wall by some chains. It took her only a few more moments to collect herself before she realized that she was imprisoned in the very same way.

“Oh no…” she yanked her arms, but the chains wouldn’t budge. “Just great…”

“Hera?” Kanan’s voice was groggy, but coming to as he repeated the panicked motions of his captain upon realizing he was captured. He wondered if she could hear the roaring below—or feel the death like he had.

“Relax!” she huffed, “I already tried that. These things are reinforced durasteel—it’s just like everything else here. I wonder where we are?”

“Uh oh…”

“What?” Hera got that look. “ _Kanan dear—_ ” her voice searched him for blame, “Where exactly are we?”

“Funny story—” he laughed nervously. “You’re going to love it really—”

She growled and he stopped stalling. With a grimmace to the floor, he tensed up and prepared for the worst.

“Jabba’s Palace.”

“WHAT!?”

“Keep your voice down!” He whispered, “What if there’s guards?”

“Guards are the least of our worries, Kanan!” She yelled at him quietly. “How did we both get here?”

“It was the bounty hunter,” he snarled, “That dirty—I never thought that he would go after you, or I would have—ah, I’m such a fool.”

“The Er’Kit salesman was a bounty hunter?” Hera scoffed. “That doesn’t make much sense—why would he employ the Rodians as back-up?”

Kanan and Hera exchanged equal looks of confusion before those stares turned into realization, and then those looks became rage.  They spoke in sync…

_“You went looking for a bounty hunter!?”_

_“You got captured by a bunch of punks!?”_

Kanan was the first to defend his story. “Hey! I was just following leads—I didn’t actually waltz up to the palace and knock on Jabba’s door!”

Hera retaliated, “Well, I didn’t  _let_  myself get taken by anybody—it was that cheap droid that stunned me!”

“Droid? What droid?”

_Beep! Beep! Boop!_

That orange C1 astromech entered the chamber suddenly and Hera tugged at her chains.

“That one!” she snarled. “When I get out of here, I am going to dismantle you, you little—”

_Beep! Beep!_

The droid chirped a few annoyed hums before unlocking Hera’s shackles, allowing her to fall to the floor, speechless. As the blood in her arms returned, she rubbed her wrists and looked to the little droid who was chirping loudly at his successful rescue.

“First you stun me, then you save me?” Hera took a breath and stood. “What game are you playing at? I swear if this is a trick—”

The robot beeped shyly, his tiny pincers dancing around one another in a nervous manner as he apologized.

“Maybe he thinks your cute?” Kanan teased, ignoring the droid’s statement.

Hera shot him a look and the droid growled at him.

_Beep! Boop! Beep!_

“No, unfortunately we can’t just leave him here,” Hera said annoyed. “Alright, you want to apologize to me… then help my fool friend down as well.”

Reluctantly, the droid did as she said and Kanan was on his feet moments later.

“You know—” he said. “I could have gotten us out of there too if you’d have given me a minute.”

The droid hummed angrily and delivered a swift slap to the back of Kanan’s leg.

“OW! Hera!? Did you see what he just did?”

“Don’t get jealous, Kanan.” Hera patted the little droid a few times. “The little guy says he wants to join our crew and help get us out of here.”

“What!?”

“You said we needed a third crew member—and Chopper here fits the bill.” She said, patting the droid all the while. There was a sparkle in her eye.

Kanan was speechless.

“Plus, I already paid for him…” She added, checking the hall for guards as the little droid exited the chamber.

“Wait! What?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, let’s just focus on finding my sister and getting out of here!”

“Fine!” Kanan huffed. “But we’re not done talking about this!”

“Alright, Chop,” Hera ignored. “Do you have any way of getting us some schematics? Like where they’re keeping our blasters, or the ship?”

Chopper whistled and started down the hall, Hera following quickly behind him.

“Hera!” He scolded quietly from the doorway. “Hera!”

“Come on Kanan!” her voice trailed. “Follow Chopper!”

He sighed and let his shoulders fall. “Don’t name it! After you name it, you start getting attached to it…”

They were long gone, completely oblivious to his complaints.

“Hera! Hey! Wait—I don’t believe this!” With another grumble, Kanan hurried out the door behind them.

Their adventures on Tatooine were only just beginning.


End file.
